Drowning Hearts, Flooding Tears
by LadyKitsune88
Summary: Something is telling Hermione that things are not right at Hogwarts...what it is she doesnt' know. She not the only one who senses something admist. Then, the nightmareish truth reveals itself, and Hermine is not prepared for it...
1. Feelings ofWhat?

**Drowning Hearts, Flooding Tears**

**Chapter One: Feeling of¡¦What?**

The crackling of the blazing fireplace filled the late winter afternoon of the Gryffindor common room. From one corner of the room there came the constant scratching of quills on parchment as a student struggled with a Potions assignment. With the occasional groan, the bushy haired girl was obviously having trouble with her homework.

The other Gryffindors in the room started as the sudden scratch of the wooden chair sounded against the highly polished and carpeted floor. They saw the brown haired girl stalk out of the portrait hole with such determination that they all wondered what could possibly have set her off.

Of course, those who knew the girl on one level or another were smart enough to figure out that she was probably pissed out. Most likely it was because she couldn¡¯t figure out that dreadful Potions assignment.

Hermione Granger was indeed pissed. And the Potions assignment had much to do with it. But that wasn¡¯t the only thing that was bothering her. Lately, there just seemed to be too much on her mind. She knew that she should find the time and energy to figure these things out, but she just couldn¡¯t seem to do that.

Her original plan was to go to the library to see if she could find some more information that could help her with that horrendous assignment of hers. Honestly, one hundred and fifty different uses of gillyweed mixed with a quarter pint of wolves-bane. But she just wasn¡¯t feeling up to it. Instead she decided to go out by the lake. Maybe the cool pre-winter atmosphere will blow her worries away for a while.

On the way to the lake, she passed by the Great Hall. As always, the Great Hall was a remarkable sight. The magical ceiling reflected the cool, clear, late-fall sky. The few wisps of clouds circled the caverns of the Great Hall in perfect tranquility, lazy. For as long as Hermione could remember, she had always been in awe of all the magic of this world. 

When she had first gotten her letter, her mother and father had thought that someone was playing a nasty joke on their daughter. But then, another letter came from Hogwarts, this time signed by both Professor Mcgonagol and Professor Dumbledore. The letter assured her parents that this was in fact the real deal and that the school would be honored to have such a promising student.

Hermione remembered exactly how she had felt. As a young girl she had always been fascinated with magic and all that was related to it. She never had any real friends, and so always pretended that she was in a magical world, with magical friends, and studying hard on all the subjects that just might have been related to magic. It was part of the reason that she was such a good student at school.

But, as all children learn eventually, magic didn¡¯t exist and it was all just a whole bunch of tricks. Wrong. She had been truly shocked and stunned when she received the letter from Hogwarts. Then, when the shock wore off, she had begged her parents so hard that in the end they were finally convinced and decided to send her to Hogwarts. The three of them had the best time getting Hermione ready for her leave to the most magical school in the world.

Hermione sighed. That seemed so long ago. Centuries ago. But in fact it had only been five summers ago. She had just started her sixth year at Hogwarts now. In a way she wanted to return to that long ago time and relive every moment of it again, and again, and again. And now, with the help of her magic, she knew it was very possible - but it wouldn¡¯t be the same. She was content to let it live within her memory.

Of course no other person knew about this. No one would suspect that the Perfect-Miss-Hermione-Granger would have emotions like this. Yet, the truth was there. Hermione was like any other human being, she had emotions, and she just chose to show a few of them. Like her ambition to become the best sorceress she could possibly be. It was obvious to everyone. It was also one of her most desperate dreams. 

She had reached the lake. It was a glossy black, with the faintest signs of ripples flowing in it, but it was soon lost in the black ebony of its icy cold waters. She remembered when she had slipped and fallen into that dark abyss in her first year. No one knew about it except for one person. He had, to Hermione¡¯s utter horror and shock, jumped into the lake to get her out. Hermione couldn¡¯t swim. 

The memory made her frown. So far, the person hadn¡¯t told anyone of that little incident. She had specifically begged him not to. Yes, Hermione Granger can beg. It¡¯s not her character, but it was one of those rare times when traits you never knew you had just takes over. The truth was that she had been so terrified of drowning. That spring when she returned home for her break, she was determined to learn how to swim, so that she wouldn¡¯t be forced to face that same embarrassment again.

With another frown, she turned around and faced the Quidditch field. From the distance she could see a group of scarlet bullets zipping in the air - as fast as lightning bolts and deadly agile. She set her footsteps towards the field and the stands. She chose to forget her memories for a while and maybe watch a little practice game of Quidditch.

As she reached the Gryffindor stands, she saw another robed figure sitting on the very top. She saw the fiery red of the figure¡¯s hair. That was all the indication she needed. She started to climb the steps to the top, patiently taking her time. 

When she reached the top, the figure turned and waved to her. She waved back and quickly sat by him. Then, as she was looking at the Quidditch players practice, a hand suddenly snaked around her shoulders and pulled her in. The next shock came when soft lips pressed against her cheeks. 

She gasped, ¡°RON!¡±

The red-haired boy laughed. That brought the pleasantly rosy color to his smooth pale skin. His electric blue eyes flashed brightly at her.

¡°It¡¯s a good afternoon kiss, what¡¯s so wrong with that?¡± he asked humorously.

Hermione arched her brows. ¡°Since when did you go around giving people good afternoon kisses?¡±

Ron grinned, ¡°Since now.¡±

Hermione scoffed, ¡°Then why don¡¯t you give Harry one?¡±

¡°Nah, Harry doesn¡¯t need me to give him good afternoon kisses. He had Ginny for that and speaking of Harry¡¦¡±

Hermione gasped as a great gust of wind screamed right past her. She had been taken entirely by surprise that she nearly fell off of the stand and Ron had to grab her before it was too late. Once she recovered her stance, she turned and faced the culprit with a deathly silent gaze that said it all.

But Hermione was the only one who wasn¡¯t laughing. Ron was beside himself with laughter and the culprit, who was none other than Harry, was nearly falling off his broom, dieing with laughter.

Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived. Hermione rolled her eyes at the pair of Gryffindors laughing in front of her. She looked at Harry, who was now off his broom and practically lying down on the bench, still giggling. His face was flushed from Quidditch practice and now from laughing. Those brilliantly colored green eyes danced behind his dark rimmed glasses. His raven black hair was being tossed around with no mercy, which didn¡¯t really matter since it never stayed in its proper place anyways.

Hermione stared at her two friends. They were some of the few she had. They were more precious to her than they probably realized. Ever since she had first met them on the Hogwarts Express Train, she had the strange feeling of comfort around them. Of course she had not wanted to acknowledge that feeling to total strangers, so she had regarded them as any other individual she would have met.

Not saying that Harry was a total stranger. Ever since her parents had permitted her going to Hogwarts, all three of them had traveled to Diagon Alley and bought all kinds of books which would give Hermione a full cover of the wizard world¡¯s history. And of course Harry Potter was included in a number of the books. Particularly, in books such as _The History of Dark Arts_ by Melissa Artosgan, and _Greatest Wizards of the Last Millennia _by Gordon Telisimaler. 

Finally, Ron and Harry regained their fleeting sanity and stopped laughing. Yet their faces couldn¡¯t erase what seemed like very permanent, very stubborn grins which split across their cheeks to their ears. Puzzled, Hermione raised an eyebrow.

¡°Is something wrong with your faces?¡±

Ron, still grinning, replayed, ¡°No, something¡¯s right with them.¡±

¡°What?¡± 

¡°It¡¯s just that you didn¡¯t get scared or surprised so easily lately.¡± Harry clarified, ¡°So Ron and I was just trying to get you to be happy.¡±

¡°Guess it worked,¡± grinned Ron. Hermione wanted to ripe that continuous smile off of his face. But she held back her annoyance with them and changed the subject.

¡°When are you guys going to study?¡±

Surprised, Harry asked. ¡°What¡¯s there to study?¡±

¡°Potions test on Friday,¡± Hermione answered simply.

Ron, sensing Hermione¡¯s efforts to changed the subject, replayed with not much effort, ¡°Nah, but better than the Potions test is the party on Saturday.¡±

Harry face broke into a sly grin. ¡°Yeah, the party¡¦¡±

Confused, Hermione questioned, ¡°What party?¡±

Ron and Harry stared at Hermione. They were indeed surprised at Hermione lack of knowledge to the party. It had been talked about around Hogwarts for weeks. It was a new festival in honor of Professor Lupin¡¯s return to Hogwarts. Professor Lupin had decided to try returning to Hogwarts at the beginning of this past summer, and Professor Dumbledore obviously had no problems with his return. 

But, because it was a definite necessity, Professor Dumbledore had announced Professor Lupin¡¯s condition to the school and sent owls to all the students¡¯ parents. After weeks of patient waiting, there was finally enough letters which supported Professor Lupin and his future as a teacher at Hogwarts. Of course there had been a few parents who strongly disagreed with this, but the majority voted in favor of Professor Lupin. 

When this was announced to the school once more, the Weasly twins, Fred and George suggested that a celebration of a sort be held in honor of Professor Lupin. Professor Dumbledore liked the idea incredibly and made plans for the celebration to be held on the last weekend of October, which was also the week of Professor Lupin¡¯s birth. The celebration party promised to be grand.

All this Hermione had forgotten. She just hadn¡¯t been herself lately, and all those who knew her noticed her definite change in character. Even Hermione herself couldn¡¯t figure it out. She had promised herself that she would be alright and that if she could she would find out what was bothering her and fix it. But still she hadn¡¯t gotten a grasp as to what that ¡®thing¡¯ was.

But she did know that it had something to do with _Him_. 

_He_ was the reason she was having all this uneasy feeling, a reason she wanted to find out desperately. Just seeing him, even a glance, made her heart scream out with unexpressed agony which tore her soul to threads.

She looked at Ron, who was talking animatedly to Harry about the party soon to come. Both boys had temporarily forgotten that Hermione was there. This fact didn¡¯t really bother her though for it gave her time to think.

As she looked upon the boys, one boy in particular, her thoughts strayed to _him _again. _What would they think of me, if they knew of my feelings? Can they notice my reactions whenever** he** comes near me, whenever I see **him**? Would they think that I¡¯m just over reacting? Are my feelings a warning of what¡¯s to come? Will it be bad? What is all this? Why? _

Finally, Hermione gave up.

She had had enough of this for today. It seemed that it was all she was doing lately, which was the truth. She stood up and started going down the stands.

¡°Hey, Hermione! Where¡¯re you going?¡± 

She turned around to face Ron. ¡°I¡¯m going back to my dorm.¡±

¡°But, wait¡¦¡± Ron started to get up, but she gestured for him to stay. Reluctantly, he did so. She turned around and continued down the steps when she met up with Ginny. The young Weasly girl had grown up quite remarkably during the past year, a truly beautiful creature. She had captured the minds of quite a number of young youths, but her mind was focused on only one. 

Ginny greeted Hermione with the usual bright smile, ¡°Hi! Where are you going?¡±

Hermione smiled in return, ¡°Oh, just back to the dorms. Tired.¡±

¡°Oh, well then, I¡¯ll see you later,¡± she nodded. Hermione knew that whenever Ginny said this she meant that she was going to go see Harry. Of course there were those exceptional times, but it was almost always to see Harry. And he didn¡¯t seem to mind Ginny; in fact he seemed to actually like her now. It was no surprise either, since she had really grown up.

With a sigh, Hermione quickly headed down the stands and was soon through the doors of the Great Hall. Ron watched her as the great door closed behind her. Then he switched his attention to Harry and Ginny who just arrived.

After a few moments, Harry and Ginny decided to go to Hagrid¡¯s house to say hello before dinner. Ron told them to go, said he wanted to stay a while then head back to his dorm as well. They agreed and left.

Now that he was alone, Ron had the chance to think. His idle thoughts eventually lead to thoughts about Hermione. He knew that time was running out. He had to tell her as soon as possible before it was too late. But for some reason, he couldn¡¯t bring himself to. 

Telling her promised to bring a number of problems to him, and to her. If she knew, her life would really start getting harder, even if it was just with the knowledge of it. But, knowledge is dangerous, especially with this. So, no matter what, he couldn¡¯t tell her. 

Yet, he knew that the more he waited, the more she was at risk. He felt it. He breathed the possibility of it every day, every hour, every minute she was away from him. For when she was out of his sight, or Harry¡¯s, she was in the danger zone. He couldn¡¯t let the danger catch her.

On a hunch, Ron decided to head back to the dorms early. He had to find her. Had to be with her, for some reason, he just had to be. Something didn¡¯t feel right. Definitely not right. He just desperately hoped it wasn¡¯t what he thought it to be¡¦


	2. Desires

Chapter 2 – Boy, this is going better than I thought it would. Of course, I might have just given up if it hadn¡¯t been for all my reviewers *thank u – blows kisses* I hope that this chapter is as satisfying as the first¡¦I would really be crushed if it isn¡¯t. Note: Some serious sex in here, so if you have a problem with this, you probably shouldn¡¯t read this¡¦not saying most people have a problem with reading it¡¦ Anyways, since I know that your all here for the story and not to hear me blab, you¡¯ll have your wish¡¦on with the story.

**-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**Drowning Hearts, Flooding Tears**

**Chapter 2:**

The echoes of a glass bottle breaking filled the dank, dark corridors. A whisper, uttering a curse. He bent to pick up the broken pieces of glass, intricately designed in scarlet blossoms and emerald leaves. The ruby liquid that was contained in the bottle stained the plush carpet, but he didn¡¯t care – the house elves will take care of it – it wasn¡¯t something he had to worry about.

He whispered a spell and with a wave of his wand the broken pieces disappeared in a silver column of dust. That done he continued down the hall, making his way to the library. Really, he was annoyed at the fact that Professor Snape would make him do something like this. It made him feel lowly – this was a job for other people, servants, not him. But, because it was Professor Snape who asked, he didn¡¯t protest and agreed to take the boxes of potions to the library. 

On the way, his thoughts strayed. It had been that way for a while – whenever he had the time, he would find himself involuntarily thinking about _her. He remembered the first time he had thought of her that way. When he had first realized it, he had been completely terrified. He still was. It was about a year ago from now, in fifth year, when students were just returning from summer vacation. The sight of her had completely blown him away. Literally. Even now it gave him the shivers._

He had arrived in the carriages before theirs had. Just out of long habit, he prepared himself with a good combat remark and turned around to face the trio. He caught sight of her just as she climbed out of the carriage. His life-long rival was helping her out of the carriage. The first thing he noticed about her was the pale, creamy sight of her long legs. It seemed she had grown quite a bit over the summer. 

He remembered how his eyes had trailed upwards, and how his face had broken into a shadow of a grin, for what he saw pleased him. Her robe was left open, letting him see her Hogwarts uniform underneath. And something that had definitely grown underneath even that. His eyes had lingered there for a moment longer than he had intended, then finally, his silver eyes flickered up to her face. He distinctly remembered how he had blushed, even if it was slight.

Her cream-like face was like sculptured marble - smooth, with tendrils of dark, golden-brown hair flowing around it, gently caressing it. Large brown eyes, flecked with gold, with dark lashes that fluttered as the drizzling rain fell on them. A small, delicately made nose. Beneath, was a small, but full, rosy lips - whispering fairy tales to all those around her.

That day he had decided not to bother with them, for his own sake. He had not expected her to be¡¦so¡¦changed. Crabe and Goyle hadn¡¯t noticed anything wrong with him that day, he hadn¡¯t expected them to. In truth, he was grateful that they didn¡¯t notice, otherwise, it would have caused a problem. He had definitely been distracted that day, trying to get glimpses of her at dinner, when they were to make their own separate ways to their dorms, during classes next day, and every other day after that. Even now, almost a year later, the fact that he was secretly drawn to her hadn¡¯t changed. 

He sighed, something that had become a habit for him also. But he only did this when he was alone, for reasons most obvious. He turned a corner, made his way down the cobble steps, taking care to hold the box of potions steady. Then, to his utter surprise and shock, he stepped on a wet spot and began tumbling down the steps – the sound of breaking bottles accompanying him. 

Then, a terrified scream.

**~ ¡Ä ~ ¡Ä ~ ¡Ä ~ ¡Ä ~**

Hermione had changed her mind about going to her dorm when she entered the Great Hall. Instead, she chose to make her way to the school library, to perhaps see if she could find something that might help her with her Potions assignment. She still couldn¡¯t believe that she was having trouble with it. While walking down the numerous corridors, she thought about _him, again. She couldn¡¯t help it – that day was still haunting her. The memory of it was too bitter and embarrassing to keep secret. But she had to¡¦for her own sake¡¦_

She shook her head, making her golden-brown hair toss and swirl in a dark fluster, thick and silken. Noticing how her hair kept getting in her way, she reached into the pocket of her robes and got out a sting of emerald green ribbon – a gift from Harry for her fifteenth birthday. Of course he had sent it over to her during summer. The ribbon was a definite green, strikingly so, but with the different hues and shifting light of the corridor lamps, a prismatic aura of individual colors emerged from it. The ribbon wasn¡¯t charmed, as Ron had first thought, but was Muggle-made. A work of genius as Mrs. Weasly had said. 

She took the ribbon and getting a generally large cluster of her bushy-silken hair, tied it in a loose pony. It would keep her hair out of her face for a while. That done, she turned the last corner and was about to pass by a flight of steps to the library – when out of nowhere, a terrific crash of glass and wood erupted from the steps, accompanied later by – a scream?

It took Hermione a while to realize that the scream had come from her. She looked about and found that she was lying on the floor, surrounded by numerous strips of miniature debris. Then she saw _him. She froze – he was laying face-down on the carpeted floor, out cold. Cautiously, she crawled towards him, carefully trying to see if he had been injured in any way. Then she whispered his name ever so lightly, bare wisps of air escaping her lips._

He groaned, ¡°Ughhh¡¦¡± 

The next moment he looked up to find her looking down on him. His heart skipped a beat, which he covered with another groan as he pushed himself into a sitting position. He rubbed his head and looked sideways at her, she was still looking at him intently – with, was it concern? _Hmmm, this is interesting – he thought, - __why don¡¯t I test this¡¦then he heard a hissing sound. She had obviously heard it too. Then he saw it._

¡°Hermione, take your robe off! Now!¡± he demanded.

She looked at him, confused and a slight hint of being offended, ¡°What? What are you¡¦?¡±

He didn¡¯t let her finish, instinctively; he reached over and stripped her robe off of her with one fluid, graceful movement. It took Hermione a while to comprehend what he had done, then she shouted at him, ¡°What the fuck are you doing, Malfoy!?¡±

He didn¡¯t even flinch. ¡°Saving your skin,¡± he replayed simply.

A familiar look came into her eyes, one that clearly said that she doubted every word he uttered. Draco simply pointed to her robe, which he had thrown not too far away, and told her simply again, ¡°Acid.¡±

Hermione¡¯s eyes glanced towards her robe, and sure enough it was hissing and smoking, a definite sign of the acid that was eating away the fabric and the carpet beneath. She sighed with relief, grateful that it was still not on her body, but she wasn¡¯t about to tell him ¡®Thank you¡¯. It didn¡¯t work that way.

Draco couldn¡¯t take his eyes off of her. She was obviously debating weather or not she should thank him, the outcome of which he had no care for. What he was interested in was _her. He had a flashback of when she had fallen into the lake in their first year. He had no idea why she had been out there that night, nor did he know what had made him jump into the lake to save her. In that moment of raw fear and courage, he had involuntarily saved the life of a Mudblood, people he swore to hate. Little did he suspect that in the near future he would be attracted to her – a present fact that still made him uneasy. _

She looked the same now as she had then; except for the fact the she wasn¡¯t wet. Slightly grateful, slightly annoyed, a bit perplexed at what had just taken place, slightly mad¡¦and with a number of other emotions whirling around inside her. Draco was surprised at how easily he could read her mind – and her body. It was hard to ignore the sight of Hermione sitting on the plush, heavily carpeted floor, without her robe on, just a white shirt that should have been a boy¡¯s and a small skirt – she seemed to have grown again¡¦_hmmm._

Hermione noticed Draco looking at her, staring at her to be specific. Involuntarily, her eyes strayed towards his face – and those cold, striking gray eyes. Or was it gray? She couldn¡¯t tell, but she was certain that they were, one minute they seemed blue, another minute pale green, and yet again, a cool shade of cerulean, his eyes shifting in tune with the flickering of the lamps and the reflections of numerous objects around him. 

But, she also saw something else in his eyes besides their odd characteristics to change color. It was his emotion. Clearly reflected through those cold stone eyes, she could see the raw agonizing emotions whirling around him. Emotions for which she could place no name – and yet still feared, instincts telling her that this was indeed something not to be taken lightly in, something sinister, evil.

Draco couldn¡¯t help it any longer; he had been keeping back the pain – the want – for so long now. It had to be set free. And what better time than this? No one was around, no one who would come and interrupt. To Draco, it seemed that some unknown, unnamed force had altered fate so that he could have the benefit of this situation – one which he was now determined not to lose.

His hand swiftly reached out and grabbed the lower portion of Hermione¡¯s hair, to keep her from moving, from escaping him. Obviously, she had sensed his intensions and was about to make a run for him, an attempt she did not succeed in. Draco pulled her in, close to his face and whispered, ever so lightly, words that chilled the frightened girl, making her whimper. ¡°Let¡¯s go somewhere private¡¦¡±

**~ ¡Ä ~ ¡Ä ~ ¡Ä ~ ¡Ä ~**

She resisted. 

He was not surprised; in fact he wanted her to. It would make the experience all the more enjoyable – maybe not for her, but for him it would be. He looked around and saw a dark classroom in the far corner. Pulling Hermione to her feet, and locking her in a tight, immobile embrace, dragged her to the classroom. On the way she tried to brake free, at which point Draco made his intentions clear by twisting her arm behind her back, preventing her from moving. He pushed her against the far wall, leaned in, closing her off.

Wrenching the emerald ribbon from her hair, Draco quickly tied her hands above her head. The knot was simple, yet effective, for Hermione was now limited to only minimal movement. She struggled to loosen the knot, which only made it more unbearable, the cords tightening painfully around her wrists. He felt her body tremble distinctively as his hands trailed hotly up those milky white legs.

Hermione gasped, terrified, almost screamed. In the now darkened classroom, Draco took out his wand and whispered a spell that cast a low golden glow throughout the room – not too bright, for it might draw unwanted visitors, and not too low, Draco wanted to be able to see¡¦well, her. After a moment¡¯s thought, Draco pointed the tip of his wand at Hermione¡¯s throat, whispered ¡°_Silencio Vozenum¡± – at which point Hermione became mute. She will not be able to scream for help. _

Hermione not only trembled with terror, she froze with it. Now that she couldn¡¯t utter even a whisper, she was completely defeated. She still couldn¡¯t believe that this was happening, she couldn¡¯t comprehend the situation. But she knew one thing, she will not be able to escape, it was impossible. With her hands tied and her voice muted, she had lost all her defenses. The only thing she could do was look pleadingly into his eyes.

He shivered, anticipating what was about to come, quaked with pent up excitement, and the expectation pumped the blood hot through his veins, making him flush. He saw her looking at him, silently begging him to not do what he intended to do – but it was beyond his power now. The most primitive urges were rushing through his body, heat eliminating from the most private places of him. As if in agreement with his mind, his body reacted instantaneously, pressure building in his middle. He would have to move quickly.

Breathing deeply of her lush hair, he trailed fiery kisses down her temples, to her chin, down her neck, and boldly parted her shirt. His long lean hand entered, she trembled – then froze. Taking advantage, he quickly enclosed one of her breasts, fondled it, felt it harden, and leaned in closer. Hermione held her breath – she couldn¡¯t believe it, couldn¡¯t help herself, her body was reacting to his. Horrified, her eyes began to fill with salty tears but she held them at bay. 

Encouraged by her reaction, he gracefully, swiftly, unbuttoned her shirt. With both hands he slowly parted the fabric and enriched his desires with the sight that which beautified his eyes. He looked at her breasts, marveled at them, loved them, and began cherishing them. To show his appreciation, and to satisfy his own urge, he took one in each hand and began playing with them, sensuously.

Hermione held her breath, she could feel her breasts growing hard, didn¡®t want them to¡¦and yet, strangely, didn¡¯t want him to stop. She was horrified, by the ordeal she was going through¡¦and by her own desire. Her body seemed to have a mind of its own, answering to the strokes and caresses it was receiving. Slowly, her back rose off the wall, arched toward his body. He met her, just so that his heat seemed to scorch her lower abdomen. He groaned, an animalistic sound.

He shifted his right hand, snaked it around her waist, lowered it boldly swept over her bottom – round, so firm – and fingered its way to her inner thigh. She tried to block him by bringing her legs together, but he shoved his knee between them and allowed his hand through. Once inside, he quickly maneuvered her panties off of her. 

Hermione screamed – or would have. Although muted, he could tell that she was screaming - he felt it in her body. She tensed as his finger, or was it several, entered her. Then, just as quickly as he had entered her, he was out. For a second she was confused, and then found that his hand was back in its original place. He grunted, groaned, gasped, moaned, pushed, petted, thrusted, caressed, kissed, sucked¡¦

The next minute, they were on the cold floor, twisting, writhing over one another, bucking with urges, desires that demanded to be let loose. He could tell that she was not scared, at least not of him any longer; she was scared of her desires. But he didn¡¯t have the time or patience to think, the demands were too great. But he spared himself one moment to look at her face.

She was flushed, a color that made her face even more beautiful. She opened her eyes, still stained with traces of tears that were no longer there. Then, a light pressure touched her lips, so gentle, sweet, velvet¡¦ It took her a while to realize that Draco was kissing her, ever so delicately. Shocked, she instinctively opened her mouth the slightest bit, and that was all he needed. He entered. His warm tongue explored her, very corner, all the little crevices in her, took her so completely. Involuntarily, she moaned, and the gasped at her own reaction.

By now Draco was out of his clothes, a process he had no recollection of completing. Hermione¡¯s shirt and skirt seemed to have disappeared too – a thing he was immensely grateful for. Their bare bodies rubbed against each other, driven by instinct, clinging. Hermione couldn¡¯t believe it. She was overflowing with such¡¦energy, so much energy, _sex energy. Draco was too. They were loosing themselves in the act, an act so forbidden¡¦_

Finally, the foreplay coming to an end, he entered her with a quick, fluid movement. She gasped at the intimated intrusion, her body tensing for a split second, then, relaxing. He began moving in a smooth, liquid rhythm, driving both of them to ecstasy. They clung to each other, Hermione quickly catching hold and moving in rhythm with the thrusting of his body. Each movement was like death ripping its way into her very being, but she couldn¡¯t stop. 

Moving¡¦ 

Thrusting¡¦

Becoming¡¦one.

In one final thrust, the last steps to the forbidden dance performed in the shadow of an abandoned classroom, he emptied himself into her. Forbidden. That was what this had been¡¦on one was to know, will be allowed to know. He would make sure of it. He promised to himself that no harm would come to this one beautiful creature in his arms, the one he had come to look upon so preciously. No, on one would know. He silently whispered to himself three simple, yet utterly powerful words, as both his and her world shattered into a billion shards of blinding, prismatic glass¡¦


	3. Aftershocks

Hey, wha¡¯sup! First of all, I would like to thank all my reviewers – your comments and suggestions have meant so much to me. I would also like to apologize to all my fans that have been waiting for this chapter, life was bitching with me and I just couldn¡¯t find the time to write this chapter out until now. Anewayz, bless you all for being patient with me. This will be a fairly short chapter, but please enjoy it all the same. 

R & R Please!!

*blows kisses*

**Drowning Hearts, Flooding Tears**

**Chapter 3: Aftershocks**

** A strong hand pounded on the hard, wooden door of the small hut that was Hagrid¡¯s home. But the hut only looked small, for once the two of them were ushered inside by the half-giant that was their teacher and beloved friend, they soon found comfort in the cozy interiors that had fiery shadows dancing all over their stone walls. **

The minute Harry sat down on one of the ancient, sagging couches that Hagrid seemed to have had for centuries, he was tackled by a mass of furry, black, yelping puppies. Ginny reached over and picked up one that was nibbling on Harry¡¯s ear and petted it.

¡°Looks like they quite like you, ¡®Arry,¡± Hagrid barked with laughter as Harry struggled underneath the pile of puppies. More than a month ago, Hagrid had traveled to Diagon Alley to get Fang a present for his way-too-old birthday¡¦and what he returned with was a whole litter of puppies. Surely they were not his, he had not fathered any one of them, but Fang seemed quite fond of each fuzzy black ball as if they truly were his own. 

Harry, pulling a squirming mongrel from his face, demanded, ¡°Just how many of these things do you have Hagrid?¡±

Hagrid grinned, the corners of his eyes crinkling good naturally, ¡° ¡®Tis just ten of them, ¡®Arry.¡± 

¡°Well, get them off of me!¡± Harry seemed quite desperate. Hagrid stomped over to him and proceeded to remove the waddling mass of black pups from his pupil¡¯s body. In the mist of all the yelping puppies, the shouts from Harry, and the roaring laughter from Hagrid, Ginny remained quite. Fang, seeming to know that the little red haired mistress needed more company than the little pup in her arms could give, strode over and licked her hand. The contact broke Ginny out of her trance-like state, and shaking her head in despair, she walked over to the two struggling men and began plucking pups off of Harry.

But even this delightful act didn¡¯t distract her. About a year ago, when she was arriving at Hogwarts to start a new year, she had felt a shadow of dread grow inside her consciousness. It had hit her full force when she had gotten out of her carriage, right after Hermione had gotten off. It took her a while to locate the source of the ¡®force¡¯, but she couldn¡¯t find it¡¦and the pain had continued to rip through her body with destructive force. 

She remembered how she had had to go to Madam Pomfrey¡¯s office, where, with much hesitation – she had explained her problem – Professor Dumbledore had been called. Once he had arrived, he put a charm spell on her, letting her doze off while he and Madam Pomfrey conducted¡¦something on her. Later, when she awoke, Dumbledore told her that she had the ability to sense the future – weather they be good of bad. Of course she will not be able to know _what_ they may be, but she would be warned nonetheless.

And so, for the past year, she had been able to foretell the outcome of many things, the conclusion of which she drew from her ¡®feelings¡¯. She had never been wrong. There was the time when Ron had¡¦well, had thoughts about ditching a class, and when he proceeded with his little plan and snuck into the greenhouse with Harry, the two of them got sick with Pufferblow Feet, an unfortunate case since Pufferblow Feet was a sickness that prevented it¡¯s host from walking for three weeks. All the while giving them rashes and making their legs twitch uncontrollably. And the time that Hagrid had left for Diagon Alley about a month ago, she had known that he would return with more – uh, company – than he had left with. But she had still been surprised for she had no way of knowing that it would¡¯ve been a whole litter of puppies. 

Ginny had always been able to tell, in almost any kind of situation, the outcome of a certain event as long as she had the ¡®feeling¡¯. Yet, not all of her feelings had been positive, or humorous in one way or another. There was one she knew was a _true_ warning. This one she knew was no joke. The warning was constantly with her, still to fulfill its message it so foretold. She knew it was to happen on an autumn¡¯s early evening, just before the sun set¡¦ 

She was confused, for that pain was haunting her now, ever since she had met Hermione at the Quidditch field. She had long since learned that her ¡°sixth sense¡± as Muggles called it, warned her about things to come – both good and bad. And this was definitely bad. Real bad. She just hoped that it didn¡¯t have to do with Hermione. But the pain wouldn¡¯t leave, no matter how hard she tried to will it away – and she had the strong urge to find her¡¦before it was too late.

Then it hit her, and she blacked out¡¦

**~ ¡Ä ~ ¡Ä ~ ¡Ä ~ ¡Ä ~**

Colin Creevey yawned as he slowly strode through the maze of corridors. He had been shooting a film for Madam Hooch on the basis of flying with a broom for first years. It was truly time consuming work, one which Colin did not enjoy doing. Sure, he liked anything that had to do with photography – starting from taking pictures with cameras, to shooting short films – but the work was just getting too much for him. Madam Hooch had promised the project would only take two weeks at the most, but it had already been three months, and Colin was just getting sick of it. 

Damn first years!

He turned the corner from the library, making his way to the dorm rooms, when he abruptly crashed into a tall, blonde figure. The figure cursed quite loudly, but the words sounded less threatening than it was naturally supposed to. Colin stopped, took a good look at Draco – who was grinning.

¡°What¡¯s gotten into you, Malfoy?¡±

¡°Not something you¡¯d understand, Creevey,¡± he said as a fresh grin broke his face, leering at Colin.

Tilting his head sideways, Colin looked straight into those hard gray eyes, with which he was level with. Colin was as tall as Draco now, and could almost compete with the famous Slytherin. ¡°Now, how can you possibly know what I can understand, and what I can¡¯t? Try me, Malfoy, I might just prove more comprehendible than I look.¡±

Draco smiled a genuine smile. The sight was so coldly beautiful, that Colin wished he¡¯d brought his camera with him, which was beside his nightstand – he¡¯d left it because he was using the school¡¯s filming equipment instead of his own. Draco, sensing the younger blonde¡¯s stares, quite unexpectedly, found himself looking at the boy with such fondness that even he was surprised. Surely, he couldn¡¯t be in that good a mood could he? After what had taken place a few minutes ago, could a guy feel that good? Probably, that was the only explanation he could come up with. For the first time in his life, he decided it would be ¡®ok¡¯ to have a bit more fun¡¦

Colin gasped as long, pale fingers suddenly touched his neck and trailed down his chest. Through bewildered, soft blue eyes, he looked at Draco. The other boy was¡¦well, he looked different. Then, in a voice that Colin could only describe as sensual, Draco told him the ordeal that he had just went through, all in exquisite detail, and all the while trailing his hands over Colin¡¯s body. 

Colin breathed a silent sigh of relief when Draco finally finished his story. 

¡°Colin, do you know what it feels like? To be with someone you had dreamed about for so long?¡±

He shook his head, no. How could he possibly, he had never felt love for anyone, it was all just an act. Even his admiration for Harry didn¡¯t go as deep as Draco meant. His past forbade such feelings¡¦ Draco smiled, ¡°You know, Colin, a guy like you could still get a chance. If you¡¯re interested, just go into that room, the one right there and see if you want a taste of what I just had. Believe me, this is the greatest feeling in the world¡¦¡±

And with that, Draco left. Still stunned at the level of intimacy that had been flowing between them, Colin had to take a few minutes to calm his racing heart. Once his mind and body had calmed, Colin decided to go to the room that Draco had indicated. Not to do what Draco had suggested, definitely not, but to go and find the girl – and in some small way – comfort the broken spirit that now will dwell in her. He sympathized with her; he knew what it felt like¡¦to be¡¦taken.

He reached the room, opened the door, and swore his heart stopped beating. The sight he saw was so¡¦painful. It brought back unwanted memories, memories he had long since tried to lock away, but which assaulted his dreams in the dark of night¡¦Memories he didn¡¯t want to face again, didn¡¯t want to see in any other soul, wanted to lock away in a box and throw away the key. But, now, here was a soul who needed the help that only he could give¡¦and he would, oh, would he ever. If only he could see who she was¡¦

Wait, is that¡¦is that who it seemed to be? Colin¡¯s heart stopped again, a greater terror and pain rocking through the very core of his being. Fearfully, he walked to her side, and with more effort than even he could¡¯ve imagined possible, whispered the one name that had ever meant anything to him.

¡°Hermione¡¦?¡±

- Fin- This chapter seems to leave more questions than answers, doesn¡¯t it? Well, for those of you who are wondering, Colin will have quite a bit to play in this story. I¡¯ve always felt a little sorry for him since not much people seem to like him or include him in their stories, so I decided to give him a considerable part in this fic of mine. I do hope he¡¯ll live up to the part. BTW, I have a favor to ask, I¡¯m planning to include a new character, one of my very own, but I need a name for him. Yes, it¡¯s a _him. He¡¯s going to be a shape shifter – but more info on him later¡¦He might not necessarily be in this fic though¡¦Just send me a list of your three fav male names and I¡¯ll try to pick the best out of the lot. Anewayz, thanks for reading, and please, review! : ) _


	4. Running Emotions

_Fin_ Please don't kill me. *covers head with hands* I know it has taken months to post this chapter but life hasn't been kind to me lately. Moving to a new house, going to a new school, no internet.life must've seen fit to punish me for a long while. I'm sincerely sorry to all my readers who have been waiting patiently for this chapter. I promise I'll post the next sooner than I did this one. As for the story, I think it's going along well so far, but the tricky part is just starting so please continue reading. Reviews and flames are welcome, although I'm not very fond of flames.( But please send me something, it'll help me immensely. Again, sorry to my readers and I hope you'll like this one. ____________________________________________________________________________  
________________________________________________________________  
  
Drowning Hearts, Flooding Tears  
  
Chapter 4: Running Emotions  
  
Someone was calling her name, she was sure of it...or was she dreaming. Then she felt warm hands holding her, a cup to her lips. Automatically, she lifted her head and sipped the warm liquid in the cup. Pumpkin Juice? She mused. Why in the world Pumpkin Juice? Mentally shaking herself and scolding her for her lack of appreciation, she finally opened her eyes and looked upon two looming, equally worried faces.  
  
"Yaw all right der, Ginny?" Hagrid leaned over and lifted her form Harry's arms and carried her to his couch.  
  
"Yeah...just great...I...," Ginny tried to get her bearing. It wasn't that easy when your lifted several feet off the floor in one giant step and sent plummeting down to earth a second later. And Hagrid's mad jabbering, no matter how considerate or worried it sounded, was not helping to rid her of the nauseating feeling rolling in her stomach. She quickly motioned for more juice and in a few gulps downed the whole cup. (Which is saying a lot, considering it's Hagrid's cup.)  
  
Harry managed to squeeze over and grab a spot next to Ginny. He leaned over, obviously very worried. "You ok, Ginny? What just..."  
  
Ginny waved her hand, "It's nothing, Harry. You know I'm always like this after the..." She stopped. After her vision. What vision?  
  
"Ginny..?"  
  
"No...NO!" Ginny bent double as the recollection filled her head. The vision. She had a vision this time. Her first. Until now it had always been feelings, always been a nagging, pulling sensation at the back of her mind, telling her that something was going to happen. But this time it was a vision. Something to go with the emotion. And not at all a good one. She flung herself from the bed and with almost catlike reflexes was thrusting the door of the tiny hut open.  
  
Harry turned, shocked and confused, "Ginny? Ginny! What is it?"  
  
Ginny turned only a moment to answer him before running out into the night.  
  
"We have to find her Harry. We have to find Hermione."  
  
Then she was gone.  
  
* * * * * * * *  
  
Colin lay the trembling Hermione down on her bed. It had been hell to get her to her room. Firstly, the staircases leading to the girls dormitories were cast with a spell that prevented the boys from entering their rooms. It took several tries and a couple of angry shouts, pleads and complaining to the stone cold walls to somehow get past them; the stairs seemed to allow him this one chance. A chance he was grateful for.  
  
But somehow, it didn't seem quite enough. It should have been harder; after all, Hermione was the last person who he expected to carry to bed. Literally. But that wasn't the case now. This was way beyond what he'd normally thought about. And it became a hundred times worse as each second ticked by.  
  
Hermione curled into a fetal position as soon as her head hit the pillow, her body curling into a tight ball, shutting her out from the rest of the world. Colin just stood there. Unable to do anything other than watch her, aching to help her, knowing she needed it, but couldn't bring himself to. Not now. Not yet. She needs time. She needs time to understand what just happened to her. Time she doesn't have...  
  
Colin finally managed to tear his eyes from her and gather the sheets and cover her. She had only a white shirt on, his own, for he had to get something on her before finally convincing her to let him take her upstairs. Despite the urgency of the situation, his modesty wouldn't let him proceed with his duties until he got something on her body, lest he considered what Draco had suggested earlier. But even as he was thinking that, he knew that he would never do that to another human being. He knew what pain it would cause and she had no need for more of it.  
  
With Hermione covered and taken to her room, he considered his duty done...for now. Later, if she came to realize what happened, and he hoped, who tried to help her, he was willing to go the extra length to give her all the help she needed. After all, he was sure none of her friends could fully comprehend what she went through today better than he did.  
  
As he was about to leave, he heard a whimper. Turning back, he craned his neck and saw that a single tear had fallen from Hermione's face, streaking down her cheek and onto the pillow. The trail the tear left glistened in the flickering glow of the lanterns in the room. It was reflected in her glassy, brown eyes. He looked at her face more carefully and found it totally devoid of emotion. Just as well. He'd better make his getaway now before she snapped awake. Who know what will happen?  
  
Though he hated leaving her in this state, he knew he must. She needed the time...and so did he. He needed to figure out things for himself too if he ever hoped to help her come through this. So, taking one last look at her, he turned towards the door and headed out. Just as the door was closing he managed to utter three words to her.  
  
"Go to sleep."  
  
She obeyed.  
  
* * * * * * * *  
  
Hermione lay crouched in the room, shocked. She couldn't think...couldn't feel...couldn't move. She sensed, rather than felt or saw, him slowly get up off the floor beside her. She sensed him looking at her, eating her out with his cold, cold eyes. She shivered. He seemed to notice because a moment later she felt the soft fabric of some kind of clothing cover her. She guessed it was her robe.  
  
Draco casually walked to the place his clothes were piled and dressed himself. She knew. She could sense him, his every movement, his every action. After having him invade her, take her against her will, she would be surprised if she didn't know what he was doing. She was disgusted.  
  
He seems to have dressed now for she heard his footsteps retreating to the other side of the room. The swish of his cloak getting fainter. She was glad he was leaving. But she wasn't sure about anything else. Nothing was the same now. She knew. She would never be rid of him. No matter how much she tried from now on, she'd never be rid of him.  
  
The classroom door creaked. And he was gone.  
  
A few moments later, she heard footsteps coming her way. She tensed. She hadn't moved from her place, hadn't lifted an eye. But now, someone was coming. Someone was going to find her. Find her like this. What if it was him again? What if it wasn't? What was she going to do? But before she could answer her own questions, or seek to find a better hiding spot the door opened and she froze.  
  
After a moment, she knew. It wasn't him. But then, who was it? Her question was soon answered as quick footsteps approached her. She tensed again. Then she got the most horrifying surprise of her life.  
  
"Hermione?" She knew that voice. Maybe not very well, but she knew it nonetheless.  
  
Colin leaned over, his worried face blocking anything else from her view. She saw him, she knew he was there, she could hear the words he was frantically whispering to her; but, she couldn't register it. All she knew now was that Colin was wrapping her with his shirt with deft hands. His hands were warm compared to the cold, hungry hands that had just moments before forced themselves onto her. Colin had now finished wrapping her in his shirt and was trying to coax her into going to her bed.  
  
Her bed. Her room. So far.  
  
"Colin." She clutched his bare arm. Her wild, scared brown eyes pierced his own blue ones. Colin froze. He seemed to know what she was going to say. He nodded silently. Then, as if he didn't want to hurt her anymore than she was already, he let her slowly and carefully shift her body so he could drape her with her own cloak before he lifted her. Once her cloak was in place and was guaranteed not to open up when she was lifted; he slowly lifted her body and walked to the door.  
  
He was stronger than he appeared to be. That was the thing about men. You never knew what they were capable of until they went ahead and did it. Silently, with her head resting in the crook of his head and shoulder, she was carried to the Gryfindor tower. His footsteps echoed throughout the halls. The rhythmic fall of his feet, the sway of his body, the pulse of his heart, and his soft whispers of encouragement comforted her and put her in a trance. She only woke when the portrait of the Fat Lady opened.  
  
He cursed. She never expected Colin of all people to indulge in using swear words. He shouted repeated at the steps to her dormitories, frustrated that they wouldn't let him get her to her room. A shadow of a smile flitted across her face. But only for a second. It was gone in a second as the fearful memories of what happened moments ago swarmed over her, making her grimace in pain and humiliation. A sharp pain formed in her abdomen and made her whimper. Colin her and whispered to her. She squeezed her eyes shut as the pain increased. Colin cursed at the stairs again.  
  
The stairs let them through after what seemed an eternity. It probably figured that this situation was the exception to the rule. The door to her dorm creaked open and she was swiftly carried over to her bed. Colin set her down gently, letting her melt into the mattress. As soon as she hit the bed she curled herself into a tight ball and turned away from him. She felt him gather her covers and pull them over her trembling form.  
  
He stood there for a long time. She could hear his ragged breathing. After a few minutes his breathing grew measured and soon he was like a shadow standing beside her bed. But he didn't feel menacing. On the contrary, he was a comforting. He seemed to be contemplating what to say to her. She didn't need him to say anything. What he had done for her was enough. More than enough.  
  
Colin shifted his feet. He was leaving. She was going to tell him thank you. She really was. But the words wouldn't form. They refused to come out of her mouth. She panicked. What if she didn't thank him? What would he think of her? Inconsiderate? Would she think she was weak?  
  
Wait. Weak.? Her?  
  
She wasn't weak. She knew she wasn't. You can't be Harry Potter's best friend and be weak. No. The dangers they had faced together wouldn't let her indulge even the chance of her being weak. She didn't allow it. Besides, she had to deal with annoying Ron everyday. She couldn't be weak.  
  
Ron.  
  
Emotions she didn't know she had rushed over her, threatening drown her in their intensity. How could this be? What were these feelings rushing over her? Her heart burned with inner heat. She couldn't bear it. What was this feeling?  
  
Ron. Ron. Ron.  
  
A single tear escaped her eye, trailing down her face to soak the pillow. "Ron.I'm so sorry." Hermione couldn't believe it. Why didn't she realize this before? How could this happen to her? Her of all people? Why did he do this to her? If it wasn't for him.She felt anger rising. How dare he do this to her? The pompous, arrogant brat had done this to her. The only person who insisted on constantly belittling her and her friends. Making them feel inferior to him. How dare he! How dare he violate her? How dare he.  
  
The anger subsided. She wanted to hold onto it but she couldn't. She knew that if she held on to the anger she could fight this. She could fight him and what he had done to her. She could fight.But the strength was ebbing out of her. She couldn't keep her eyes open. The hatred that had been white hot only bare seconds before simmered down to a flickering flame. But it was there. She knew it was there and took comfort in its knowledge. She could harness that hate later. Right now she needed her strength. Her body begged for it. She was just so tired.  
  
She heard Colin's whisper through the fog of sleep. "Go to sleep," he said.  
  
A small smile crept onto her face as she obliged his kind instructions. Colin. She'd have to thank him later.  
  
Her eyes closed and sleep enveloped her.  
  
^_^ ( 


	5. Discovery

Drowning Hearts, Flooding Tears  
  
Discovery  
  
The halls echoed his footsteps. Funny...they never seemed to do that before. He wanted to dismiss it as something he'd never noticed or remembered, but somehow their vibrations seemed ominous to him. Like a warning. He'd already gone to check the library, because knowing it was Hermione, she'd have gone to the library one last time before heading back to her dorm. But she wasn't there. He turned a corner that would lead him to their dormitories. He recited the password and after staring at him for a while, the Fat Lady let him through. He could hear her inquiring about his health but he didn't give her a reply. He just wasn't in the mood to talk to moving pictures.  
  
He passed the common room and made his way to the dorm where he and Harry had spent countless hours. The memories made him grin. They were the best of friends and nothing was going to change that. Sometimes, Ron remembered that he wished Hermione was a boy too. It was silly, how immature and simply his mind had worked, but he distinctly remembered that his explanation for his closeness to Hermione was that she wasn't like other girls and therefore she should've been a guy. But that was before he hit puberty head on. Then he started seeing a new side of her and was grateful that she wasn't a guy. Otherwise, it would have caused complications, not to mention several people who would declare that he had gone insane. But life was life, and now that he looked at it, it really wouldn't have mattered. You can't help the people you care for. You just do. It's not a matter of choice.  
  
Propping himself on his bed, he reached over and grabbed a copy of Life magazine. It was something Harry had brought over this past summer so that Ron could get an idea of what magazines where like in the muggle world. However, he had been told that there were several types of magazines, the list of which can contain several (cough, cough) inappropriate topics. Still, he was enchanted by it. He wanted to visit Harry's muggle world one day and see everything that there was to see.  
  
After flipping through the magazine for a while, though, he admitted to himself that this wasn't what he should be doing. He should be looking for her, and yet he was sitting in his room reading a muggle magazine. He tossed it and rose. The feeling hadn't abated – and thus, was a bad sign. If he couldn't find her this time he figured he'd go find his sister. Maybe she'd know where she was only because she was Hermione's real female friend.  
  
It took him only a few minutes to scan the common room and the library once more. Still, there was no Hermione. He was getting worried. There were only so many places she could be, she was a girl who like to stick to places she knew and felt comfortable in – hence, the library, the dorm, and the common room. And to an extent, the classrooms, but it was after school and so she wouldn't have been in any of those. She might be a bit insane, but not that insane. He was hoping that maybe she was at Hagrid's place; it was the only place left he hadn't checked.  
  
He had just entered the Great Hall to check if she was in there when he heard a roar from the entrance of the school. Turning around, he saw Ginny, Harry and Fang charging up the stairway. Fang was barking his head off at a non-existent culprit as far as Ron could see – but Ginny's face was pale and she had a panicked look in her eyes.  
  
"Ginny! What is it Ginny?" A bit startled at his sister's pale, panicked face, he caught her before she fell tripping on the last step and looked at her. Her eyes where wild – like the eyes of a cornered animal, gripped by terror. "GINNY!"  
  
It took her a second to refocus on him. But in an instant, his voice broke her trance and she shoved him out of the way and charged in the direction of the library. Ron saw Harry and Fang dash after her and followed. Ron tried to make eye contact with Harry, but the boy had his determined green eyes set on Ginny and was chasing after her so intently that he decided not to. Ron decided that though he might be worried about Hermione, now he was worried about his sister too, and since she was right in front of him so to speak, he figured he'd go after her first. Ginny had reached the library, and to Ron's surprise she zipped past it and charged into one of the empty classrooms nearby. As he, Harry and Fang entered the first thing that they noticed was the...well, it wasn't just one thing.  
  
The place smelled of something foul. It wouldn't be accurate to call it an odor, although there was that too...but more of a, say...an aura. It smelled of Evil. Something had happened in this room – something bad – and it had been recent. The rows of desks and chairs were in chaos. Some were toppled over, others were crushed against the walls, and yet others had the look of being...well, scorched by something, like fire. But it didn't smell like fire either. Fang was sniffing around the room, every so often snorting his nose as he snuffed an overwhelming amount of the...well...stench. Harry slowly weaved his way around the disarray to Ginny, who was sitting in the middle of the room, where it seemed that...whatever had taken place.  
  
She was crouched on the floor, clutching something to her hands. As Ron neared her and Harry, who was leaning over her with his arms around her, he saw that it was something soft and shiny, glowing as it caught the setting sun through the window. It took him a while to notice that it was something small and fluid-like, cloth maybe. Then he saw that it was a ribbon of some sort.  
  
Then he saw the emerald green hues.  
  
He stared at it in confusion. Wasn't that Hermione's...? What was it doing here?  
  
He looked at his companions. Ginny was as still as stone, her face paler that it had been before, making her look wild – her fiery hair and electric eye's glossed over. She was dripping silent tears; her cheeks wet with their trails, but she didn't seem to know it. Harry's eyes almost seemed lost in darkness, those emerald orbes burning with dark passion. He had his hands in fists, his jaw set. Ron noticed that he was staring intently at something in the distance. He too looked.  
  
His heart plummeted to his stomach and weighed there like a mountain. He tried to swallow, but couldn't. It seemed he'd forgotten how to breathe, his breaths coming in short gusts of air that hardly satisfied. His eyes burned, his head throbbed. He felt Fang lick his hand, but none of the warmth reached him. His knees were weak and yet his fists were balled into red balls of anger. A burning rage filled him. His face went hot, he started grinding his teeth. His body seemed to be gather energy from every corner of his body and collecting it in his heart where it burned and raged. He could feel his the rage and heat rising from his body. Then, filled with determination, he got up and walked next to the window. The object of his rage glinted coldly in the setting sun – just like its owner – a few feet away. It made him sick.  
  
"Let's go."  
  
The three of them and Fang quickly got up and left the room. As the door of the classroom swung to a close, the breeze that escaped from it crept across the cold stone floor and gently blew the single strand of pale blonde hair out into the twilight. It twirled in the air, glinting and sparkling upwards towards the darkness, before vanishing in the last golden rays of the sun. 


End file.
